


Pretty

by storybycorey



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3757198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storybycorey/pseuds/storybycorey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is always an energy between Mulder and me, and depending upon the circumstances, it ebbs and flows accordingly.  But tonight, it has reached new heights- it’s crackling and popping and radiating- and is so tangible I feel as though I could reach out and touch the glowing blue current that connects us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an old-time shipper from the original days of the X-files, and I've caught the bug again in 2015. I know that some prefer to follow canon, and write about Mulder and Scully post-IWTB, but I still can't get enough of "first-time" stories, so that's what I've written. 
> 
> Takes place sometime early Season 7, no spoilers to be concerned about, just pure, delicious, smutty MSR.
> 
> Please enjoy, and I'd love any feedback you can give me!

I wonder if he knows. I wonder whether he’s ever noticed. Has he caught a glimpse of lace or satin and allowed himself to hope? Allowed himself to imagine trailing his rough fingertips along the smoothness and awaking a passion that we both know is there? Or am I the only one who is hoping?

Does he realize that every day, as I’m choosing my wardrobe- my aggressive black blazers, my severe dress slacks and skirts, my tailored power suits that are meant to intimidate ever other man with whom I come in contact- does he realize that what’s underneath it all, I’ve chosen solely for him? 

Does he know that I’ve been wearing lingerie for him for years? That when I go to Victoria’s Secret, I pore over the selection there and think only of what he would like, what he would imagine me wearing, what he would fantasize about me wearing, what he would /ache/ to see me wearing. What I /ache/ for him to see me wearing… even though he never does.

Over the years, I’ve amassed quite a nice collection, all with him in mind, and as I’m dressing each morning, I’m very thoughtful of my choices. My unmentionables are an homage to his emotions. 

For instance, when I feel darkness surrounding him, threatening to pull him down, on those days I choose black satin. I imagine his hands grasping my waist in desperate need, then smoothing over the satin of my rear as he grips me closer.

When I sense he’s feeling exposed, too much pain too close to the surface, on those days I select nude lace. I envision him pulling my breasts to his mouth to suckle through the transparent lace, soothing himself against my bosom. 

On those rare occasions when things are light and easy for us, on those days I wear sweet, frilly pink, as much as it may surprise you. I visualize the playful push and pull of our lips, of our tongues tangling in our warm mouths as we laugh about how long it’s taken us to get to this point. 

And even more rarely, when his heat is becoming almost too much for me to bear, on those days I can’t help myself, I wear red, the color of passion. And I fantasize about that passion finally overtaking us, of our bodies so intertwined we cannot tell where one begins and the other ends, as cliché as that may sound.

All so that should this “thing” between us ever happen, should this tension between us ever finally pull so taut that the “ping” of it breaking will be heard all the way to Reticula, should we ever finally make that choice to risk it all, all so that when that happens, I can look pretty for him. /Pretty/. It’s such a girly, submissive sort of word, and so unlike my usual outward persona, yet it’s exactly how I want to feel when he finally sees me, when my clothes are finally shed for him for the first time. I want to feel girly and sweet and delicate and pretty. And though the feminist side of my brain puts up quite a fight about it, it’s a need I can’t deny, this need to look pretty for him. And I want him to look at me and say, “All this time, Scully,… all this time I’ve dreamed of how you would look, and in my wildest dreams, sweetheart, I never realized you would be so pretty, so stunningly beautiful…”

“Sweetheart.” Does he know that I yearn to hear that word slip from his mouth? Or “baby” or “darling” or something similarly intimate, endearments that would cocoon me in their warmth while at the same time igniting a sizzling furnace within me? Does he know that sometimes when he murmurs “Scully”, I imagine I hear the word “honey” instead…? Oh, I know this desire goes against all my feminist tendencies, but there’s just such intimacy in those kinds of utterances, intimacy that I long for with him.

However, all this wistfulness is a little misplaced, unfortunately. While I wear pretty lingerie under my clothing with thoughts of him someday discovering it, and I fantasize and dream about pet names, in reality, we both know that it can’t ever happen. It can’t. It just can’t.

Why is that so hard to accept? Why do I try again and again to find ways around it? To circumvent all rational thought in order to appease my desperate heart? I’ve always prided myself on being able to rise above the messy, disorderly irrationality of human emotion, yet the enormity of this, of /us/, has continued to be a struggle for me to overcome.

My heart wants what my heart wants, and my body desires what my body desires. But my brain is stronger than the both of them, and so far, it has won the battle. My brain is logical and practical, and it knows the pitfalls we are avoiding and the risks we are bypassing by keeping things platonic. It understands the dangers that could befall our partnership and friendship should things go awry with a sexual relationship. 

It’s a battle waged between my brain and my heart daily, sometimes even hourly. As much as I yearn for and crave him, I’m also paralyzed with fear. I’m so, so fearful that should we take that leap, we will never be the same again; we will lose this connection that we have. And I just don’t know that I could bear that. And so, thus far, my brain has been the victor of these internal struggles.

But lately, I can feel my brain’s strength slipping. Reasons why “we shouldn’t” are slowly being buried by reasons why “we should” or at least by “would it really be so bad if we did?” and especially by “oh God, I don’t know if I can live one more day without him touching me”.

And so, for now, I teeter on the edge of an abyss. Just how long can I balance before I tumble, down, down into that sticky, sensuous, all-encompassing hole? I can feel myself edging closer and closer to the rim every day. 

And I know that once I fall, there will be no climbing out…  
_ _ _

It’s been a rough couple of days. Scully and I have been running around in fucking circles, all for something that has turned out to be a wild goose chase. For three days, we’ve been misled and deceived, baited with tiny tidbits of information regarding my sister, and, like an idiot, I kept believing and dragging her along. 

I really, really thought we were close to something this time, and even though she tried to reason with me, being the bastard I am, I ignored her. “Either you trust me or you don’t, Scully, but I’m going, with or without you…” I said, and some other bullshit about not having my back, etc., etc. I know that was a low-blow, bringing the trust issue into it, and I feel like an asshole about it now. But I guess she knows by now that when it comes to my sister, I can get a bit irrational at times.

And so here we are, sitting in a Georgetown bar at 11:00 on a Friday night. We’ve been sitting here for close to four hours, waiting for my “contact” to, well, contact us. Note the quotation marks around “contact”, as I guess I’m ready to admit that this whole damn thing has just been a big scam on Old Spooky Mulder.

Poor Scully. She’s being a good sport about it all, and I can tell she’s holding her tongue, even though she must be dying to spout a big old “I told you so” at me. I look over at her, and she gives me a sad little smile. She feels sorry for me. Hell, I even feel sorry for myself. What a pathetic loser I am, chasing an invisible unicorn all over Washington D.C., and ending up with nothing. But Scully is still here with me- can you believe that?

What did I ever do to deserve a partner like Scully? A friend like Scully? She is just so… so… /good/…, for lack of a better term. She’s honest and dependable, kind-hearted and compassionate, intelligent, witty, forgiving, I could go on and on…. 

And she puts up with me and takes care of me so well. She’s always checking up on me, “Are you okay, Mulder?”, “Is everything all right?” She like really, genuinely cares for my well-being, and it just feels so good. Nobody else in my life has ever really cared about how I was doing; instead, people have always just cared about themselves, and I was sort of an afterthought. But Scully,… not Scully. She really does care. 

I love it when she goes all Doctor on me. I live for those moments when she strokes my cheek and checks my forehead, and when she slides her cool little hands through my hair, checking for a head injury….damn, I’m getting chills just thinking about it.

Hell, Scully’s not just /good/, she’s /amazing/. 

Speaking of amazing, she’s not only amazing inside, but outside -her face, her hair, her body- her outside is amazing, too- fucking unbelievably amazing. She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. 

She’s got these eyes that are the most beautiful shade of blue, and they’re so big and liquid- when I look into her eyes, I feel like I could just fall and drown inside of her. And sometimes she’ll look up at me in this certain way, with her eyes cast down a bit so that she’s looking up through her lashes, and this little smile on her face, and my heart just stops, she’s so breathtaking.

Scully’s also got this amazing hair, this gorgeous copper hair. She’s changed it a few times through the years, and it’s always been beautiful, but right now is my favorite. It’s so silky and shiny and just the most perfect shade of red to complement her blue eyes. Sometimes I have to stuff my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out and touching it, but other times, I’ll allow myself a touch, by tucking a few wayward strands behind her ear. It’s just as soft as it looks…

And her mouth, oh God, her lips… I could look at her lips all day. They’re just so soft and creamy and… and…well, sexy. Her bottom lip is a little plumper than her top, and sometimes I watch her talking (this is kind of easy, since she can sometimes be a little long-winded when she’s rattling off medical terms and such- but hey, I’m not complaining!), but anyway, sometimes I watch her lips when she’s talking, and all I can think about is how that bottom lip would feel between my teeth, and how it would feel under my tongue…. 

Ugh, and her tongue. She has a very expressive tongue, if that’s even possible. I don’t know that I’ve ever noticed anyone else who licks their lips like Scully does. When she’s considering something in her head, or sometimes just in the middle of a conversation, her tongue will peek out and run along that bottom lip….sometimes I just completely lose my train of thought when she does that, and I just stare…

And while I could extoll the virtues from her neck up all day long, I can’t neglect those from the neck down by any means. While she probably doesn’t like anyone to notice, Scully is hiding a pretty hot little body under those severe business suits she wears. 

She’s got these beautiful strong legs, which get even more beautiful when she puts on those heels she likes to wear. And while I have absolutely no problem with the fact that she’s petite, I certainly don’t complain when I get to see her sweet little calves on top of those towering heels. I rejoice on the days she wears a skirt, just so I can enjoy the view.

And speaking of a view, holy crap, does she have a fantastic ass under those skirts and suit pants. Sweet and round and, oh God, what I would give to just cup those little cheeks in my hands and give a squeeze...

But my absolute favorite view of Scully is when she wears a low-cut shirt and I’m able to get a glimpse of her cleavage. From what I can tell, she has got a lovely pair of breasts hidden in there. 

Lately, she seems to be wearing more revealing clothing than she used to. And under those tight shirts and button-down blouses, I think she’s hiding all kinds of goodies. 

You see, I’m a lingerie kind of guy. Nothing turns me one like beautiful lingerie on a woman’s beautiful body, and just the thought of seeing what Scully is wearing underneath those suits can keep my fantasies going for days. Is she a simple white cotton kind of a girl, or does she prefer satin and lace? Bikinis or, Lord help me, thongs? The possibilities are endless, and while I’m sure she’d look hot in even a garbage bag, it’s definitely fun to think about.

On days when I’m really lucky, I’ll catch a peek of her bra through the buttons, or when I’m standing behind her over her desk. Sometimes there will be pink lace or black satin, and one time, I even saw a glimpse of bright red. Holy fuck, Scully! You little minx! On those days, it’s all I can do not to reach out and touch her and see if I can reveal some of that sweet, soft flesh that lies underneath…

Ummm, yeah, so I’m starting to get myself a little turned-on here. I guess I sort of went off on a tangent there, huh? You can’t blame me though, can you? I mean, she is, in a word, “perfection”. 

In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of have a “thing” for Scully. And it’s not just a physical “thing”, it’s an emotional “thing”, too. But it’s a heart “thing”, most of all. 

You see, I kind of, sort of, love her. Am in love with her. She’s my soulmate, the love of my life, and any other phrase that means I’m absolutely taken with her.

Problem is, I don’t think she feels the same way. Or if she does, I don’t think she wants to do anything about it. I think I’ve given her ample opportunity to move forward with our relationship, but she obviously hasn’t taken the bait. And I can’t say that I necessarily blame her. I mean, I’m not really someone who can give her the things she deserves out of life- a happy, stable home, a predictable future, a husband who is, well, /sane/… I’m quite certain that her girlhood dreams of a mate did not look anything like me.

And so I’m satisfied, for now, to just be her friend, to be able to spend my days with her, chasing aliens and flukemen and corrupt government officials.

But that doesn’t stop me from wishing. And dreaming. And fantasizing. And even praying… even though it’s probably all in vain….  
_ _ _

Mulder and I are sitting in a bar in Georgetown; we’ve been here for a while, at least a few hours. We’re here because we’re waiting for someone to contact Mulder about his sister. For the past few days, we’ve been pursuing this lead, yet we’ve come up with nothing. I warned him about this, about putting too much stock into a very flimsy possibility, but of course he didn’t take heed.

I wanted so much for this lead to actually blossom into something real, for Mulder’s sake. It tears me apart watching him get his hopes up, time and again, only to have them torn right back down, sending him into an even darker place. I’m sure he feels as if I’m not supporting him, not trusting him, when these situations present themselves, but that’s not true in the least. It’s just that I’ve seen how it affects him when an opportunity is lost, or when it turns out to have never existed in the first place.

I look over to him, sitting next to me, yet so far away. I can see the battle being waged within his head; he’s berating himself for believing in yet another futile pursuit. His dark eyes raise to meet mine, and I try to give him an encouraging smile, but he closes his eyes and rests his forehead in his hand against the bar.

Oh Mulder, I’m so sorry… how I wish I could make it all better for you.

How I wish I could pull you into me and make all the pain go away… How I wish I could stroke your face and erase the anguish I see there … How I wish I could caress your chest and soothe the heartache… How I wish I could kiss away the misery…, kiss those beautiful lips of yours, oh God those lips, and make you forget about everything else…

But I can’t. We’ve been over this before. I can’t do any of that. 

But oh, I want to… I really, really want to…

In the background, I listen to the band playing, slow jazzy-sort of music. Couples are dancing in the cleared-away space in front of them, and before I realize what I’m doing, I reach across to Mulder’s hand on his knee. I place my hand on his, and say, “C’mon Mulder, screw your contact. Come out here and dance with me.”  
_ _ _

Whoa, what? Did Scully just ask me to dance? She’s got my hand in hers, and she’s pulling me toward the other couples who are already swaying to the music. Holy crap, what’s going on here? 

She finds a spot for us, then places her hands on my shoulders. 

She looks up at me expectantly, as I stare at her for a second with, I’m sure, a shocked expression on my face. But then, I get over my surprise and realize that I should put my hands on her hips. She smiles up at me, and we begin to move to the beat of the bass and the sax.

“Well, color me surprised, Agent Scully. I never figured you to be the dancing type,” I say to her.

She looks up at me. “I just thought that we both could use a little distraction, to get our minds off things…,” she answers back.

I pull her a little closer. “I guess I can’t argue with that.” 

“Mmm-hmm”, she murmurs, as she reaches her arms a little farther and clasps them behind my neck.

We stay like that for several minutes, just moving to the music. The beat is slow, but it requires a little more than just a shuffling of our feet. We’re able to manage though, and I relax into the sensation. It feels so nice to hold her like this. I would stay here all night if she’d allow it.

The music winds down, and the band picks up another song, this one much slower and more sensual. I glance down at her, to see if she wants to continue. She looks back up at me, in that shy, sexy way where she tilts her head and smiles through her lashes, and then I can’t believe it, but she steps even closer into me and lays her head down on my chest. It feels absolutely incredible. 

I grasp her hips and pull her even closer. I hear a little gasp escape her lips, and it delights me. She makes me feel like such a stud. I love thinking about the fact that she’s a woman and I’m a man, because as partners, it can sometimes become a little ambiguous. But there’s no ambiguity in the womanly sway of her hips under my hands right now. I can’t get enough of them rocking back and forth, back and forth to the music. “A little distraction” is right. I’m about a million miles away from thinking about my sister right now. All I can think about is how Scully feels, pulled up against me, her sweet head lying on my chest. 

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the suddenly increased beating of my heart. But I can’t help myself; I’m absolutely intoxicated by her. I feel both comforted and aroused, all at the same time. God, what this woman does to me. In one breath I want to nurture her and take care of her forever, and in the next, I want to peel her clothes off and worship her body until she can’t see straight. 

I stop fighting and succumb to my temptations. I lay my cheek down on the top of her head. Her hair feels like satin, and my stubbled cheek brushes against it, catching the strands as we shift against each other. This is divine. I close my eyes and breathe her in.  
_ _ _

I feel myself beginning to panic a little, now that I’ve pulled Mulder out here to dance. I certainly didn’t think things through, did I? I wanted to give him some comfort, some distraction, so that he could let go of some of the weight on his shoulders, even if just for a few moments. I didn’t really give myself time to consider things though, and now we’re here, swaying to the music, in each other’s arms. 

Things started out innocently enough. We did a pretty good job of relaxing to the music and just enjoying ourselves. We were close enough to be friendly, but not close enough for things to be misconstrued. 

But now the beat has changed, and become much slower and much more sensual. 

He looks down at me with those dark eyes of his, a silent question being asked. Should we continue? 

Although I know the smart decision would be to make our way off the dance floor, I’m lost in those eyes. They draw me in, and though it scares the hell out of me, I decide to be brave. Before I have time to talk myself out of it, I lay my head against his chest. It’s warm and solid and so…so….masculine. Mmmm, yeah, I think it was a good decision. 

He must have liked my decision as well, because his arms wrap around my hips, and he pulls me even closer in.

It feels so good, so, so good. It feels exquisite. I can feel his heart beating beneath my cheek , pounding out a rhythm that feels a little dangerous. But sometimes I like danger. Sometimes I even crave it. And as I listen, I can already feel myself sinking, sinking into him, sinking into the warm, intense pool that is Mulder. 

As I said before, I’ve been teetering lately. I’ve been teetering on this line that we’ve drawn, this line between “will they” or “won’t they”, this line between my brain and my heart. Until now, my brain has come out ahead. But I feel my heart beating now, and it’s beating strong, and it’s beating hard. 

He leans down and I feel him inhale, then he lays his head atop of mine. Oh heavenly Father, that feels divine. My heavy eyes droop closed of their own volition. 

That scale that has been balancing so precariously suddenly shifts. I hear the clang of the weights as they fall sharply to one side. And inside my head, I hear something else. Something that shocks me. But it’s as clear as day. I hear my heart whisper fiercely to my brain, “Go fuck yourself. It’s my turn now.” And even more shocking, I actually think my brain agrees.

As if Mulder heard the conversation within me, he pulls me closer, pulling one arm up across my back to grip my shoulder, while the other reaches further across my waist, to rest on the opposite hip. I accommodate him by reaching my own arms up, further around his neck and resting one against the back of his head, threaded through his soft hair.

This feels absolutely heavenly. I’m pressed against him from my waist to the top of my head, and with every move he makes, he takes me with him. I love feeling connected to him like this, moving languidly to the music, aware of nothing but the sensations between us. 

I am lulled into an almost trance-like state, lost in the sway of his body against mine, until I’m brought sharply back into awareness by the feeling of his hand beginning to move. He begins kneading the muscles on my shoulder, softly but surely. Slowly, he works his way across the top of my back toward my neck. I forget to breathe for a moment, awaiting the hand’s final destination. It finishes its journey by caressing the side of my neck and threading its way through the hair at the base of my skull.

I can’t help the moan that escapes my throat. It’s out before I can even think about it. And, almost immediately, I hear an answering moan from his own lips. Oh God, what is happening here? I feel almost drugged. How can this man affect me this way? In the span of five minutes, I’ve become a quivering mess.

His hand is cupping the base of my skull, and his fingers are massaging through my hair. I’m having a hard time breathing. In fact, I’ve lost all ability to breathe. I turn my head so that my forehead is resting on his shoulder, and as I do, his own head lowers down beside mine, and I can feel his cheek against my temple. Sweet Jesus, why haven’t we allowed ourselves this pleasure before? I feel my mouth go slack, and my breath returns in shallow pants. As his cheek brushes against me, he nuzzles my hair with his nose, and I’m gone- my knees begin to buckle. 

Feeling the jolt in my balance, he grips me more firmly with the hand around my waist. 

“Hey, you okay?” he whispers intimately.

“Mmm-hmm …,” is all I can manage.

Oh my God, I’ve got to get a grip on myself! Since when do I lose myself like this over a man? Never, the answer is never…but then, the man has never been Mulder- passionate, intense, intelligent, sexy as hell,…. God help me, what am I getting myself into? 

I’m jolted out of my reverie as I feel him shift the arm that’s wrapped around my waist. Slowly he moves, and starts to stroke my hips and back. No, not “stroke”, that’s not the right word; he starts to “caress” my hips and back. “Stroke” is impersonal, just basic movements. “Caress” is alive and liquid and sensual, all of which I’m feeling. Back and forth, up and down, around and around. The warmth of his fingers melts through the fabric of my clothing and burns me. It feels incredible. His fingers are tracing equations through my blouse that feel like the answers to the universe.

I can no longer remain passive. My own hands take on a life of their own, and I begin my own exploration. I gently rake my nails through the short hairs at the back of his head, then soothe them back down with a caress, only to begin again. This feels nothing like other times that I’ve touched his hair; this feels feral and primitive. I slide my fingers under the collar of his shirt and tickle them along the warm, soft skin there. It’s so very soft; all I can think about is how it would feel under my lips. I continue until I feel a deep shudder rack his shoulders, and a grunt from his throat to accompany. 

Is this really happening? Are we really actually doing what I think we’re doing? I’m so tired of waiting for this. The time is now. I can’t even think straight, I feel so dazed. But God, this just feels so good, so right, so absolutely perfect. 

I feel his head turning, moving slightly away, and I realize he’s looking down at me. I turn my face slowly up toward him. His eyes are dark, his mouth is slack, his breathing is shallow, and he is the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. 

“Scully…,” my name comes roughly from his mouth.

“Mulder…,” I murmur in response.

It’s as if we are reaffirming what is transpiring here, acknowledging it to each other and to ourselves. Yes, this is happening, and yes, I think we both want it…

We begin to come back together, only this time, he bends down and turns toward me so that his cheek rests against mine. I’m reminded of other rare occasions when we’ve been this close, but none of those times were like this. None of them were crackling with intensity like this time is. 

I’m going to lose it, I just know it. I’m going to melt into a puddle right here on this dance floor. It’s sensory overload, the brush of his stubble against the sensitive skin on my cheek, the slide of his forehead against mine. My eyes flutter closed, and I gasp as he turns a slight bit more and nudges his nose against my own. 

Our noses brush and graze each other, whisper-light touches that make my heart beat wildly in my chest. This is just so intimate, so absolutely precious. His hands continue to caress my hair and my trembling body, but I barely feel them as our noses slide against one another and our breath begins to mingle in the miniscule space between our lips.

I cup the back of his head with my hands and pull him even closer. He can’t be close enough. Our breaths are coming in short pants, and I think I’m about to die of anticipation when I feel his lips barely brush against mine. His gravelly voice stumbles, “Scully, we’ve got to… I’ve got to…”

“Shut the fuck up, Mulder,” I whisper, “Shut the fuck up, and kiss me.”

And he does.  
_ _ _

When Scully demands that I kiss her, I can’t respond fast enough. I have been waiting to hear these words from her since the day we met. Since before then, even. In the millisecond it takes for me to register her request, I realize that I have been waiting for this moment my entire life.

I cup my hands under her sweet jaw, and I kiss her. And she kisses me back. And I am in Heaven. 

We start slowly. I can’t believe how soft her lips are. I’ve felt her lips on my forehead before, and the occasional buss on the cheek, but holy fuck, the difference between those sensations and these sensations are too vast to even acknowledge. She’s so much softer than I’d imagined, soft and delicate and so, so sensual. And she’s kissing me so sweetly, I almost want to cry. Her hands are running through my hair, and it just feels so, so good. 

Holy fucking fuck! I am kissing Scully! I still just can’t even wrap my head around this yet. If this whole thing never progresses beyond this point right here, I will die a satisfied man, because just the sensation of her lips on mine has already surpassed every single fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life. 

But she doesn’t seem as though she’s interested in stopping anytime soon. Can’t say that I disagree. And right now, I’m happy just feeling her in my arms and feeling her velvet mouth slide against my own for as long as she wants. I think we’ve stopped technically “dancing” to the music, but ask me if I care. Ask Scully if she cares either.

I really do love these chaste, tender kisses we’re sharing, but before long, I’m starting to feel a bit hungrier, hungry for something a little bit sweeter. I slide my hands back into her hair and pull her in closer. I open my mouth against hers and run my tongue along her bottom lip, that bottom lip that has featured in sooo many of my fantasies. As I’d hoped, she gasps, and I plunge my tongue into her mouth. 

Oh, yeah, that’s much better… She lets out a sexy groan, and then her hands grip my head, and she slants her mouth over mine, allowing me to taste her. Our tongues tangle, and it is absolutely delicious. We seek and explore each other’s mouths, sliding, sucking, even biting on occasion. My entire body is responding to her. I’ve been aroused since the second she pulled me out to the dance floor, but I feel myself becoming even harder as our kisses become more fervent. 

My hands begin exploring, and I allow myself to fulfill another of my fantasies. I bring my hands around her back and slide them down, lower, lower, until I am cupping her exquisite ass. Ohhh, God, how long have I waited to do this? I pull her into me, lifting her against me slightly, so that she can feel the evidence of my arousal.

She moans, and it undoes me. I pull away from her mouth and begin kissing her everywhere, her cheeks, her forehead, along her jaw, in that sweet spot behind her ear. Amazing, she is fucking amazing. She tilts her head back so that I’ll continue down her throat. She is making these whimpering noises that are driving me fucking crazy. 

“God, Scully…, do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” I whisper.

“Mulder…,” she murmurs. God, I love the way she says my name; it just slips out of her mouth with barely an effort, and yet it sounds so damn sexy. I progress down her lovely throat, kissing and sucking and nuzzling. I look down and decide to pursue the alluring neckline of her shirt, hoping I can make my way inside, where I see some very intriguing lace revealing itself. I allow my tongue to take a taste of her delicious skin, but she pulls me back up to her mouth before I can get any further. 

“Mulder,” she whimpers against my lips, “Mulder, we can’t do this here….we need….we need to go somewhere….”

Shit, I’d just about forgotten where we were! And giving the bar patrons quite a show, too. I look around, but no-one seems to be paying attention to the horny couple necking out on the dance floor, thankfully. I give her one more lingering kiss, then grab her hand and head out to the car.  
_ _ _

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…my heart is still racing. Mulder and I just… just… hell, what did we just do? His hands were on my…., and his lips…., and his…his… cock…, oooooh God, his cock….up against my belly…. Jesus, I still can’t even breathe. I swear to God, I’m a wreck.

I glance over to him in the driver’s seat, and he doesn’t look much calmer. There’s a bead of sweat running down his temple (why do I suddenly want to lick it off of him??), he’s got the steering wheel in a death grip, and he seems to be having just as much trouble breathing as I am. Do I dare look down? Do I? God, how can I not? Oh, dear Lord, and he’s got a very obvious erection straining against his slacks.

The sight immediately sends a tingling warmth and a flood of wetness to my nether-regions. Just the thought that his body is responding this way because of “me” is so absolutely exhilarating . I shift in my seat a bit, trying to get more comfortable, but it only works to make me more aroused. 

He stops for a red light, and his eyes slip over to me. He moans, “God, Scully, you’re driving me insane over here.”

Our eyes lock for a moment. We’re both breathing hard, thinking about what has already transpired, and about what has yet to transpire, should we allow it.

“Mulder, is this really happening? Are we sure of this?” I ask him shakily.

“I hope so,” is his response. “I really fucking hope so.”

I chuckle a little, because he’s such a typical male. But then he reaches over and lays his hand on my thigh, and continues, “Scully, I want this more than I want my next breath, but if you’re not ready, if you’re not absolutely sure, then we can end it here, no hard feelings.”

Tears spring to my eyes, and I take his hand in mine. “Mulder, I’ve wanted this for a long, long time. I may have deceived myself and been cowardly in the past, but I’m through with that now. I’m ready. The second your lips touched mine, I knew without a doubt that there was no turning back, not for me anyway…”

A giant smile graces his face. “I’m that good of a kisser, huh?” he quips.

I roll my eyes, and we both jump as the driver behind us sounds his horn loudly. “Now get your eyes back on the road and get a move on, you big stud!” I joke back with him.

The little exchange between us has helped my nerves tremendously. The butterflies in my stomach have retreated from a flurry down to a flutter, thank goodness. But there is definitely still a distinct energy about the air in this car. There is always an energy between Mulder and me, and depending upon the circumstances, it ebbs and flows accordingly. But tonight, it has reached new heights- it’s crackling and popping and radiating- and is so tangible I feel as though I could reach out and touch the glowing blue current that connects us.

Oh Lord, how in the hell am I going to make it through tonight without spontaneously combusting?  
_ _ _ _

Holy fuck, I can’t believe what’s happening here. We are in my car, on our way over to Scully’s apartment, and if things go well, I think we may finally be consummating this relationship of ours tonight. I’ve been waiting for this for so many years- had about abandoned hope that it would ever happen- and it is finally fucking happening. And I’m scared shitless.

She’s sitting over there in the passenger seat, looking as sweet and sexy as can be, and she’s even assured me that we’re ready for this. But what if we’re not? Or more importantly, what if /she/’s not? What if she changes her mind? What if we do the deed, and tomorrow morning, she regrets it? I already question whether we can go back to the way things were, after that fucking amazing make-out session we shared at the bar. But once I’ve seen her, I mean really seen her, seen her with nothing on, and touched her, touched her beautiful breasts and belly and hips and…., well, after that, I know there’s no way I can go back. 

As always, it comes down to trust. I need to trust her, trust /us/. For the pair of us, it’s only fitting that such a monumental decision is weighing solely on us trusting each other. She’s the only one that I trust, and I think the feeling’s mutual, and now we are laying it all out on the table. Here I am, Scully, take me or leave me. Please, Scully, please….please take me.

We’re pulling up outside her building. The phrase “Here goes nothing” really doesn’t seem adequate in this situation. “Here goes everything” is really more appropriate. I look over at her, and she looks back at me. Our gazes lock for a moment, then I see hers drift down towards my mouth. Her tongue peeks out and runs along her lips. Hot damn.

Well,…here goes everything.  
_ _ _ _

I get out of the car, and my recently calmed nerves spring immediately back to life. Mulder comes around to my side and places his warm hand against my back, as he has every day for the last several years, yet right now it feels like pure electricity, seeping through my clothes and into my skin. We begin the walk towards the door, and all I can think is, “Soon that hand is going to be touching other parts of my body, is going to be caressing and kneading and stroking in places that haven’t been touched by a man in so, so long.” God forbid he change his mind about this, because I’m becoming more ready by the second.

We make our way down the hallway towards my door, and I reach to find my keys in my purse. My fingers don’t seem to work properly, and I’m fumbling around like a child, trying to find the damn keys. My heart is beating practically out of my chest, and my hands are shaking. Mulder, bless him, reaches out and begins stroking through my hair. I close my eyes for a moment because it feels so damn good, but then get back to frantically looking for the keys. But apparently Mulder has other ideas, because all of the sudden, he pulls me roughly against him, one hand cupping my rear and the other in my hair, pulling me into a kiss.

I can’t help but moan as his tongue is already seeking entrance into my mouth. I momentarily forget about the keys and let my purse drop to the floor as I put my arms around his neck, and allow our lips to tangle and slide. Jesus, he is a good kisser! Why didn’t we do this years ago? 

As hard as it is to pull away, I don’t want my neighbors calling the cops on us, so I gently push his shoulders back and rest my forehead against his. 

I’m breathing hard, but manage, “Mulder…” I can’t resist kissing the corner of his lips one more time.

“Mulder…” another kiss on the other side, “…we need to get…” and one on his brow “…inside…” and on his other brow “…now…”. I wrench myself away, even though he’s trying to pull me back, and see the keys lying on the ground next to my abandoned purse. 

I grab them and jam them into the lock, even as Mulder is behind me and is sweeping back my hair, kissing the nape of my neck as I’m trying to unlock the damn door. His tongue runs along my neck and I shiver while humming my approval. 

Finally, success! The door is open, and we stumble inside. Before I can even hang my purse on its hook, Mulder is on me. His hands are in my hair and his lips are everywhere, my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead, back down to my neck and behind my ears. He is almost frantic, and God, it’s really fucking turning me on. I hold on and kiss whichever part of him is nearest my mouth. 

Together, we pull at each other’s jackets and slide them to the floor. I wrap my arms around his back and fill my palms with his shoulders, then slide them back down and fill them with his ass. 

God, how long have I waited to touch Mulder’s ass? Years of following him around have made me very familiar with this particular attribute, and I’m not disappointed once I’ve finally fulfilled my curiosity- it’s nice and hard and his cheeks fit into my hands quite perfectly. I give a squeeze.

“Oh God, Scu… God, that feels good…” he gasps. I continue kneading his butt. Now that I’ve started touching him, I don’t ever want to stop. It’s exhilarating, the knowledge that we’re allowed to touch each other now. 

He strokes down my back, then his hands drop lower and tickle the backs of my thighs. “Not fair that you get to touch my ass if I can’t touch yours, now is it, Scully?” Before I can even answer, he’s grabbed my rear and lifted me up against the door. His crotch is against my center, my skirt immediately bunched around my waist, and we both groan from the contact. Hot damn, Mulder!  
My legs automatically wrap around his torso, and my arms around his neck. We look at each other, labored breaths passing between us, and somehow we both seem to realize the need to pause for a second.

This position puts us eye to eye, a place we’re not often in. And we take advantage. For a second, a moment, an eternity, we just look, gaze into each other’s eyes. We’re so close – it’s so intimate the way we’re positioned – our bodies melded together, our breaths intermingling, our eyes just centimeters apart. His pull me in, and I can feel myself falling inside, drowning in their depths. I love this man so much. Does he know that? Or have I kept my feelings so sheltered that this truth, the greatest one of all, has been hidden from him?

“I love you, Mulder. Do you know that?” I whisper.

His hands come up to cup my jaw, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. His eyes grow moist. 

“I know it now, Scully,” he whispers back, “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your love, but thank you, Scully, thank you for loving me.”

I kiss him lightly on the nose. “Are we sure about this, Mulder? Are we making the right decision?” I can’t help but check in with him one last time, although I’m praying to God that he’s not going to change his mind.

His answer is everything I could have hoped for and more. “Scully, I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t. Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I’ve just been waiting for you to be sure, too.”

And he leans forward and kisses me. And it’s the sweetest, softest, most loving kiss I’ve ever received. I feel tears running down my cheeks in awe of how tender he is with me. I do my best to kiss him back in a way that shows him the depth of my own emotions for him. His mouth is soft and sensual and voluptuous, and I just can’t get enough of him. I could kiss him for days and days like this and never feel satisfied. 

This…, this is what I’ve been missing all these years, what I’ve been craving. This connection, this communion, this love. I feel like crying just for the loss of all the time we’ve gone without, but I can’t. I can’t cry anymore because I’m so damn happy.

I smile against his lips in joy, as we continue our physical adoration of one another. We are soft and tender for a while longer, but then his tongue begins prodding and his teeth begin nipping, and I can feel myself becoming open and needy for his touch. He’s still got me up against the door, and our hands start to wander, mine across his back and up into his silky hair, his grazing along my ribs and my arms. Eventually his hands slide back down under my behind, and I yelp as he thrusts his hips against me. God, I can feel him, even through our layers of clothing. I can feel him hot and huge and hard for me. I spread my legs wider, and then squeeze them tighter around his waist and undulate my pelvis nicely against him.

“Uungh,” he grunts, surprised, then recovers and says in a husky voice, “Well, Miss Scully, how ‘bout we move this party into the bedroom, shall we?”

God, he’s so hot. He carries me toward my bedroom, as I do my best to kiss every millimeter of his face on the way.  
_ _ _ _

Fuck, she is just delicious. I sometimes forget how petite she is, because her persona is usually anything but small (I’ve seen six foot tall men cower in her presence before), but she really is so adorably tiny in my arms. I was able to lift her up like nothing, and now she’s nestled very nicely up against my most sensitive body parts. She’s got her elbows resting up on my shoulders, her hands mussing through my hair, and she’s kissing me absolutely everywhere she can reach, my cheeks, my nose, my eyes, my jaw, and most importantly, my lips. She’s settled on my lips right now, and I have to say, it’s making my walk to the bedroom very difficult.

Damn, she is an amazing kisser. I suppose I would’ve guessed that, considering those incredible, luscious lips, and I’m happy to report that my predictions were spot-on. She nips lightly at my lower lip, then sucks the whole thing into her moist, hot mouth. I groan out loud, and almost trip as I bump into the table next to her couch.

“Jesus, Scully,” I chuckle, “I can’t concentrate on walking while you’re doing that!”

“Well then, I’ll make things a bit easier for you,” she whispers sexily in my ear as she straightens out her legs and slides down my body back to the ground, making extra sure that she rubs her breasts against my chest and her hips against my cock in the process. 

“Fu-uuck,” I manage, as she lets go of me and begins to walk bewitchingly toward her bedroom, swaying her hips and glancing back at me over her shoulder. 

She stops in the doorway and lays her head back against the doorjam, then tilts it in a way that I can only describe as seductively, and crooks her finger at me.

“Wanna come play with me, little boy?” she purrs.

Holy shit! I honestly have to squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fists for a moment in order to keep myself from having an orgasm right in this very spot. My Scully, such a little temptress! Damn, what did I do to deserve this woman? God, if what has happened thus far is any indication of how the rest of this night is going to go, I cannot wait!

I practically jog the rest of the way into her room. She’s standing next to her bed, waiting for me. She’s still wearing full work attire, yet damn if I’ve ever seen anything as absolutely sexy as this vision before me right now. I’d swear that looking at her is like looking through a soft-focus lens, where everything’s hazy and soft and glowing, because that’s what she’s doing right now- she’s glowing. She’s glowing….for me.

I cross the room in two strides and fall to my knees in front of her. I cup her rear in my hands and press her belly into my face, into my lips. I can’t help myself from kissing her, kissing her flat tummy through the silk blouse she’s wearing. Her hands thread into my hair and her nails scrape against my scalp.

“Scully,… Scully,…” I murmur between my kisses, “God, I adore you…”

I think I’ll die if I can’t touch her skin soon, and I begin to tug at her shirt, pulling it out from where it’s been tucked into her skirt. I gather it in my fists and slide it up so that I can put my mouth against her. I close my lips around a spot near her navel and lightly suck, then let my tongue have a little taste.

“Muu-uuul-derrr,” she gasps, and I can feel one of her hands leave my head to grasp the bedpost for support. Oh my God, the thought that I can reduce her to just gasps and groans is doing wonders for my ego.

“Scully,…your skin,… it’s so soft….God, I’ve imagined it….” I can barely get the words out for all the kisses I’m laving across her abdomen.

“Tell me…,” she sighs.

“I’ve imagined….so many times….I’ve dreamt about how you would feel….your skin…how it would taste….I’ve imagined you like this….so many times, Scully….so many times….,” I murmur  
against her satin skin.

She pulls me up to stand in front of her, then brings my head down into a kiss and runs her fingers across my chest. “I’ve imagined, too, Mulder,” she whispers between kisses, “imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers….my tongue….across your chest…across your belly….your back…your ass…” I groan at the thought of her tongue on my ass, or her tongue on any of my body parts, for that matter.

“Mulder?”

“Hmmm?”

“We don’t have to imagine anymore….,” she murmurs. I can feel her smiling against my lips, and my lips turn up as well.

“No, we don’t, do we?” I answer cheekily, as I nip at her lips.

Our kisses continue, but soon my hands can’t help but get in on the action. Apparently Scully’s hands were feeling similarly neglected, because simultaneously, we both begin working on the buttons of each other’s shirts. “Scully,” I whisper mischievously, “you know the thing I imagined the very most of all? The thing that kept me up nights imagining?”

“No,… what?” she breathes between kisses.

“The thing I imagined the very most of all,” I whisper naughtily in her ear, “was what you were wearing underneath those suits of yours every day.” 

I hear her breath catch, and it goes straight to my groin. But then she pulls away and pauses. “Did you really, Mulder? Imagine that, I mean?” I’m not sure why she’s hesitating. Doesn’t she know how much she turns me on?

“God, yes, Scully,” I reassure her, “I think about your lingerie pretty much every hour, on the hour. Just the thought of what you may be hiding under your suits drives me absolutely wild…” I continue stroking over her arms, her hips, her back while I’m talking, because frankly, I don’t think I could stop even if I tried. 

She reaches for my hands and removes them from her hips, placing them against my sides. I panic for a moment, thinking she may have changed her mind. 

“Scu…,” I plead, but before I can continue, she reaches out to stop me. 

“Shhhh,” she whispers. She takes a step back, then raises her liquid eyes up to mine while her fingers slowly reach up to finish unbuttoning her blouse.

_ _ _ _

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m “stripping” for Mulder. I’ve never done this for any other man before, but then again, I’ve never bought and worn unmentionables specifically for any other man before either. 

When he tells me that he’s imagined what I’m wearing under my clothing, that the thought keeps him up at night, I just about lose it. Immediately, I feel heavy and needy and open for him, and I want him to see. I want him to finally see the lingerie I’ve so carefully selected, the lingerie that I’ve worn only with the thought of him one day taking it off, and while I’m a little nervous, I’m also completely fucking turned on.

I look him in the eye and reach up to begin unbuttoning my blouse. He holds my gaze for a moment, then lets his eyes drop to follow my hands. My fingers are trembling, and while I feel wanton and shameless, I’m also slightly anxious with the worry that I won’t live up to his expectations. But the uncertainty doesn’t stop me, and it actually somewhat excites me. Wanting his approval is a familiar feeling for me, and in this context, it’s quite sexy.

I watch his face as I release each pearl from its hole, each one popping open and revealing a little more. His breathing is shallow, and his eyes are trained on my fingers. God, how can I be so turned on just from him watching me? Pop…, pop…, pop….I work slowly, becoming even more aroused by the anticipation in his face. I finally reach the last button. Once it’s been released, I allow my blouse to hang open, the white silk fluttering at my sides. I see him take a deep, shaky breath, and I can physically feel the weight of his eyes, caressing the shadowed depths between my breasts. God, I’m getting wet just looking at him.

He takes a step toward me, but I hold up my shaking hand to stop him. I’m not done yet. Slowly, I reach around to the side of my hip and slide down the zipper of my skirt. I bite my lip as I remember his mouth on my belly only moments ago. I can see his throat as he swallows, and I long to step over to him and let my tongue run along its length. I kick off my heels, and then, hooking my thumbs underneath both my nylons and my skirt, I drag them down, and am bold enough to shimmy my hips seductively as I do. I hear him moan, and I think I hear myself whimper in response.

Quickly, I slide the skirt and nylons off my feet and toss them onto a chair. My shirt remains, floating around my sides and serving as the final barrier between his eyes and my body. It’s thin and doesn’t hide much, but it provides me some semblance of modesty until I am ready to reveal myself to him.

For a moment, I let my insecurities get the better of me. I can’t bear the thought that he may be disappointed in what he sees. I’m ashamed at my lack of confidence, yet nonetheless, there it is. 

But then I hear him, and his voice cuts a knife right through my uncertainty.

“Scully…,” he begs, barely audible. 

And then I want him to see. I’ve imagined him looking at me like this for so many years. I’ve yearned for it. I want him to look at me and see the story I tell him with my attire, to see that it’s a tale of my love for him. I lift my head and take a step forward. My hands tremble as I reach them up to my collar. Slowly, I arch my shoulders back and let my blouse begin to slide. It slinks over my skin like a snake, and I can feel the trail it leaves, a trail of exposure. It finally slithers over my fingertips and lands on the floor without a sound.

And then I stand before him, trembling and waiting, and completely turned on by the thought that he’s looking at me.  
_ _ _ _

She stands before me, her chest rising and falling quickly with her shallow breathes, her hands by her sides, fingers clenching and unclenching, betraying her emotions. Her cheeks are flushed, and the sweet pink extends all the way down her chest, getting lost in the shadow between her breasts. She’s biting the corner of her lip as she watches me, obviously trying to fight insecurities that are erupting within her mind. And I am blown away by how absolutely, fucking gorgeous she is.

I’m so mesmerized by the huge expanse of sweet, velvet Scully skin, that at first I barely notice what she’s wearing. It’s just a testament to how positively breathtaking she is. But then I take the time to look, and become even more aroused as my eyes peruse her. She’s wearing the most seductive peach-colored satin bra, as well as matching panties. Both pieces are enhanced by black lace that dances against her creamy, eggshell skin. Her breasts look swollen and ripe, encased in the lace, and my fingers twitch at the thought of touching them. The panties wrap around her sexy hips, and all I can think about is running my tongue along the edge of them, tickling her soft skin on the way. I couldn’t have chosen a sexier ensemble for her if I’d tried.

“Oh God, Scully,” I say, my voice hoarse, “my God, is this what you’ve looked like under your suits this whole time? Have you looked this fucking beautiful all these years?”

She smiles shyly, and it’s the sweetest thing in the world. “It’s for you, Mulder,” she whispers, so softly I can barely hear. 

“For me?” I question, not quite understanding her meaning.

“For you…the lingerie…every day, I choose..…,” she’s flustered, but continues, “…just in case it finally happens,…just in case this,” she gestures between the two of us with her little hands, “finally happens between us, I….., every day, I choose what I think you’d like…what I think you’d like to see me in…”

For me? She wore this for me? Holy shit! Oh, Scully….

I step forward and wrap her in my arms. “Scully, oh God, I love it, ….I love it,.…I fucking love it, I fucking love you…” I can’t help but blather on, her confession is so precious to me. She’s normally so guarded with her emotions, this little bit of information just delights me to no end, since I know it must have been hard for her to admit.

“As silly as it sounds, Mulder, I…., I…. want to look pretty for you,” she smiles shyly up at me.

My Scully, my precious Scully. Doesn’t she know? Doesn’t she know that she’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me? Doesn’t she know that nothing she could ever say would be silly to me, because I respect and love her so much? 

I cup her jaw in my hands and look deep into her eyes, “Scully, you are the prettiest, sexiest, most amazing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and it has absolutely /nothing/ to do with what you’re wearing. ‘Pretty’ doesn’t even come close to describing what you are. You are my entire world, you’re everything- you’re fucking everything- to me.” 

She looks up at me with moist eyes and turns her cheek to place a kiss in my palm. Then she brings her own hands up to rest at the base of my skull, and strokes her thumbs on the sensitive skin in front of my ears. 

“Mulder,” she whispers, “you’re fucking everything to me, too.” And then she smiles.

My heart does a little flip-flop, both at her words, but also at the sexy smile on her face, and I know my own has broken out into the biggest grin ever. I can’t help but bury my face in her hair and give her a big, goofy bear hug. Her arms wrap around my neck and she hugs me back. It just feels so good, finally knowing what we mean to each other. I don’t ever remember feeling this happy before.

We simply hug and enjoy each other for a few seconds, but as we stand in our embrace, I’m quickly reminded of the situation at hand. My arms are wrapped around pure, naked Scully skin, and oh, it feels divine. My dick snaps right back to attention, and I pull back to look at her. Heavenly, she is just heavenly.

Our eyes meet, and I can tell Scully remembers what we’re here for as well. Her lips part, and her breaths begin to shorten as we look at each other. I glance down between us and see her beautiful body, just begging to be touched. Far be it from me to deny Scully’s body of anything it wants, so I take my finger and start doing some touching. I trace it along her cheekbone, and trail it down underneath her chin. Then I slowly run it along the elegant line from her jaw to her shoulder, and she sighs, then tilts her neck to accommodate me. I tickle down her arm, down to her elbow, then slowly back up to her shoulder. All this time, she is running her own fingers lightly up and down the sides of my ribs. I circle my finger lightly back up around the ball of her shoulder, tickling and teasing her until I see her shudder. 

Then slowly, slowly, I take my finger and begin to run it down along the strap of her bra, down, down toward that sweet spot where her flesh begins to swell, where her shoulder ends and her breast begins. I think this spot may be my very favorite on her body thus far, although I reserve the right to change my mind in the future. I watch her face as my finger trails. She’s dropped her eyes to follow my finger, and she’s holding her breath as it moves. Her own fingers have stopped their ministrations, and they’re gripping my waist tightly.

I hesitate for a second as my finger reaches the end of the bra strap. Still watching, she looks mesmerized, and has begun breathing rapidly through her parted lips. Ugh, she is so god-damned sexy right now, all I want to do is rip off her panties and bury myself inside of her, but she deserves so much more than that. She deserves a proper seduction, and I plan to give that to her. I dip underneath the black lace of her bra just a touch, and at a deliberately slow pace, I trace down along the edge of the satin, running along the fullness of her breast toward that enticing shadow in between. My hands are aching to touch more- God, she’s so full and ripe- but I’m enjoying watching her reactions too much at this point to give in.

She releases this sexy little whimper, followed by a gasped “Mulder, please…”

My finger continues its path, now dipping between her breasts and starting back up the other side. “Please, what, Scully?” I tease her.

“God…,” she breathes, “Please…touch them, Mulder…please…”

She sounds so desperate that I decide to let us both have what we want. I take both hands and cup her breasts, gently lifting their weight and squeezing my fingers. We both let out a groan, although hers is infinitely more sexy than my own. Her head falls back, and she arches her body, pushing her breasts further into my blissed-out fingers. Oooh, God, I actually need a minute to breathe here. I have fantasized about Scullly’s breasts for so long that I’m having a hard time comprehending this situation right now. Scully’s breasts. My hands. Together. To borrow an expression from Scully, hoo boy!

She’s still holding onto my hips to balance, so I bring one arm around and place it between her shoulder blades to hold her up, then continue kneading her breasts with my other hand. I lean over and bury my nose in the valley between them, then poke out my tongue to have a taste. Moving back up along the edge of her bra, I lick and kiss her divinely soft flesh. 

Her skin is salty and tangy, and unbelievably more appetizing than a sunflower seed. I wonder if I could package her up and save some for later? 

“More, Mulder…, please more...,” she begs, in a breathy voice. 

“Rrowwr,” I growl, loving her assertiveness, and then, obediently, I place my mouth and tongue over her nipple, through the satin and lace of her bra, and give a little lick. 

“Oooh God, yes….,” she gasps, “God, Mulder, I’ve wanted you to do that for sooo long…”

I suck and lick and play with her until I can feel the hard nub rise up underneath the fabric. With my other hand, I find the nipple of her other breast and coax it into attention as well, rolling and pinching it. She has begun a constant whimper-y sort of moaning that is so fucking hot, I’m going crazy. My dick swells even larger and is becoming very impatient waiting for a turn to join the fun.

Deciding I’ve had enough of working around her, albeit very sexy, bra, I reach around for the clasp and unhook it. We both work together to slide it off her arms, and then there she is, my Scully, in all her topless glory. I have to take a moment away from pleasuring her to just look. Oh God, is she exquisite. Just absolutely gorgeous. Her breasts are actually even a bit fuller than I had imagined, much to my delight, and her nipples…., her nipples are the prettiest, rosy pink color. And they’re slick and shiny and standing up, begging for more attention from me. She is absolutely perfect. 

“Scully, you’re fucking gorgeous. So much more beautiful than I’d ever imagined,” I tell her, and then before she can even respond, I kiss her lips and move back down to my happy place at her nipple. I lave my tongue across it, then suck it back into my mouth, then flick it with just the tip, all while my other hand is kneading and massaging and twisting and pulling at her other breast.

“Unngghh, so much better,” she groans. I couldn’t agree more. 

Holy shit, am I really here? Is my mouth really on Scully’s breast, sucking at her sweet little nipple? Is she really moaning my name in that husky, “do-me-now” voice? This is just so fucking hot- she is just so fucking hot. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but holy crap, I’m grateful for it.

By now I’ve switched sides, and am giving her other breast some oral attention, and I think I’m presuming correctly when I say that Scully /reeeally/ likes her breasts touched. She is killing me with the noises she’s making, noises that I’ve never imagined would come from her lips, and believe me, I’ve tried to imagine these things many times. But the moans and whimpers and squeaks I’m hearing are so much fucking hotter than what I could have ever hoped for.

“Scully…,” I groan, “God, you are so fucking hot. You’re killing me here….”

She responds by grabbing my head and pulling me back up to her face. My tongue isn’t too happy to have left her nipple, but is immediately appeased when her tongue reaches into my mouth and asks to play. We kiss furiously for a few minutes, and let our tongues have a real nice time together. Our hands are having a pretty good time, too. I’m using this opportunity to feel every inch I can reach of her silky skin, and she gets back to the task of unbuttoning my shirt. Our lips are battling, our tongues are dueling, our hands are exploring, and it all feels so fucking amazing.

She finally gets my shirt unbuttoned, and together, we pull it off. And, oh, why didn’t we do that sooner, because her cool little hands feel so incredible stroking over my bare chest. She sweeps around to my back and rakes her nails from my shoulders down to my waist, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make me groan. Then she smooths them back up and comes back around to my chest. She strokes up and down, to my navel, then back up again. And then she begins circling, around and around my pectoral muscles, avoiding my nipples on every pass. God, I’ve never really cared too much about women touching my nipples, but the way she’s teasing me is really driving me insane. I can feel them getting hard, awaiting her touch. I swear, she’s a damn musician, the way she’s playing my body. Finally, she lightly draws her nails down and flicks over the tips. 

“Unngh!” I grunt, and grab her ass and thrust against her.

“Hhhmmm,” she smiles, “You like that, Mulder?” And before I can even respond, she’s got her mouth on my chest, and is licking and sucking at my nipple.

“God, Scully…,” I gasp, “I think I like everything that you do to me…” I think about how many times I’ve lusted after that mischievous little tongue of hers, always peeking out to tease me. Seems now that same tongue has taken teasing to a whole new level.

“Everything, huh?” she murmurs against my chest, barely stopping her treatment of my nipples to speak. “I wonder if you’d like this then?” And she reaches down between us and cups my groin, squeezing my cock through my slacks.

I involuntarily thrust against her again, and barely manage a strained, “O-oo-oohhh, yeah, Scully, I think I like that, too…..”  
_ _ _ _

Oh, sweet Jesus, am I dreaming or is this actually the real thing? I’ve certainly had some hot dreams about Mulder over the years, but none of them even came close to what’s happening right now. Holy Mary, Mother of God, but he is damn talented with his mouth. The things he was doing to my breasts- hot damn- felt so amazing, I’m sure they must be illegal in numerous states. I’m almost embarrassed by the sounds I was making, but this whole situation is just so unbelievable, I think I’m beyond embarrassment.

And so now I’d like to repay the favor, and see what kinds of sounds I can finesse out of Mulder’s mouth tonight. God, I’m turned on just thinking about it. 

We finally get his shirt off, seeing as he was severely over-dressed for the little party we’re having here. And I find out that he’s somewhat fond of having his nipples licked as well. Hmmm, seems we have something in common. ‘Mulder’s nipples’- now there’s something I’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about. However, ‘Mulder’s cock”, well, that’s something I’ve spent a LOT of time thinking about. And now I get to spend some time not only thinking about it, but touching it as well- hoo boy! 

I reach down between us and slide my fingers so that I am cupping him. Oooh God, is he huge and hard, straining against his slacks. I can feel his heat, melting through the layers of cotton into my palm. Just the feeling of holding him in my hand like this is dizzying, and my whole body reacts with a warm heaviness. He grips my ass and thrusts against me. Ugh, I love the feeling of a man pulling me into him like that. I can feel his whole length, even through the fabric of his pants and his boxers, and I slide my hand up and down, pressing with the heel of my palm. He lets out the most amazing groan, and pulls me up against his groin even harder.

I reach around with my other hand and clutch his ass as I continue to grind my hand against him. I can’t help but rock against him myself to increase the friction. His groans become louder, as I find a rhythm we both seem to like. I’m quickly becoming addicted to the noises he’s making, and want to do whatever I can to ensure he keeps making them. I reach up with my unoccupied hand and pull his face back down to mine, covering his lips with my own, hoping to swallow some of his moans and keep them inside of me forever. 

I’ve never been this turned on in my life. God, I want him so much. I don’t think I’ve ever really admitted to myself how much, but now, with his hands kneading my ass, his tongue sliding in my mouth, and his cock thrusting against my belly, I realize it. I realize that I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything, more than anything in my life. And I want it now.

I wrench my hand out from between us and reach for his belt. I make quick work of the buckle, slip it through the beltloops, and toss it to the floor. I struggle blindly to undo his button while his lips paint landscapes across my face. I finally feel the “pop” and reach next for the zipper, pulling it slowly down against the hard ridge of his erection. God, I can actually feel my mouth watering at the thought that I’m going to finally get to see it. It may surprise you to know that I’ve never actually seen Mulder’s penis. While I’ve had the pleasure of seeing his naked body a few times, I’ve always done my best at averting my eyes when it came to that area, out of respect to him. But I’m happy to say that I have no intention of averting my eyes tonight, no intentions of that at all.

I slowly slide his slacks down his lean, muscular legs, then stand back up to face him. He kicks them off, along with his shoes. He’s breathing heavily, and his hands are restlessly stroking over my arms. I tickle my fingers across his abdomen, and he tenses his muscles as I continue around his hips to his back. Then slowly, I slide them under the waistband of his boxers, and I cup the glorious naked globes of his ass in my hands.

We both moan at the sensation, and his hips begin rocking against me in a languid, sensual rhythm. I squeeze and stroke and am positively dizzy at the thought that I’ve got Fox Mulder’s naked ass in my hands. But then, not to be outdone, Mulder decides that two can play at this sexy game of mine, and he slides his big hands down underneath my own panties and squeezes /my/ ass.

I gasp from surprise, and he smiles down at me, “Now that’s more like it! Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch your naked ass, Scully?”

“Probably as long as I’ve wanted to do this, Mulder,” I reply, and while still inside his boxers, my hands slide around to his front and grasp his cock.

“Fuh…uuuuck…., Scully!” he groans in a most sexy way, and I can feel his knees buckle for a second. But he rights himself and throws his head back as I begin to slide one hand up his shaft while the other lightly holds his balls. Jesus, does his cock feel divine in my hands. It’s smooth and hot and impossibly hard, and I can literally feel the blood pumping through his veins. And while I had a good sense of his size from my earlier exploration, I now can feel just how, ummmm, /above/-average he is, and my own sex tingles at the thought of their eventual meeting.

I stroke him from base to tip, then rub my thumb around the head, sliding in the wetness that has already appeared. His own hands are still gripping my rear, and as I look up into his face, I see his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open in a smile of ecstasy, gasping breaths seeping out. He is just so hot, how the hell is he so hot?? I squeeze my hand and slowly run it up and down his cock, up and down, increasing the speed as I continue. He is moaning in the most erotic way, and rhythmically clutching at my ass, pulling me against himself with each caress of my hand. I stroke a few more times before he reaches around and grabs my wrists, stopping me.

His face is grimaced as he grunts, “Uugh…Scul….Scully…got to stop…too close…ungh….”

Begrudgingly, I pull my hands away, secretly pleased at how quickly I was able to bring him to this point.

“Sorry, Scully, but you’re just a little too good at that…” he chuckles.

“Mmmm, s’okay…” I grin, feeling a little giddy at the control I seem to have over him. 

I slide my hands back up his chest to wrap again around his neck as he rests his forehead against mine and steadies his breaths. 

We stay like this for a moment, our foreheads mating and our breaths calming, and I think we both realize the need to take things in. We both know what comes next, and I think we are preparing ourselves for this monumental leap we’re about to take. Our hands and fingers unhurriedly drift and discover new terrain on each other’s bodies while our minds assemble. 

Mulder’s hand slides gently up my arm and across my clavicle to cup my cheek. Turning my face into his palm, I look up at him, and kiss the warm skin there. Our eyes draw together as if by the strongest magnets, and their force makes it difficult to do anything but fall inside. We are here. This is really us.

He places a tender kiss on my forehead, another on my lips, and then he takes my hand and walks me to my bed. He pulls down the bedding for me and I lie down, our gaze never breaking. I can’t explain it, but his actions make me feel so loved, so cherished. While it would be so easy to get caught up in the frenzy and treat this as simple horniness and the desire to get laid, it isn’t that at all, it’s so much more, and we both know it.  
_ _ _ _

Ah, my Scully, she is a vision. My everything, my world, my existence, lying in front of me like an offering from the universe that, until now, has gifted me nothing. Lying on her rosebud-covered sheets, she’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. 

Waiting for me, waiting for us, to fulfill the desires we’ve dreamt of for so many heavy, hollow years. I reach out and touch her. I stroke my fingers leisurely up her leg, beginning at her toes. She giggles slightly at the beginning of their journey, but by the time they’ve reached her thigh, the giggles have stopped and her breath has quickened.

“Mulder…,” she whispers, her eyes trained on my own.

I tickle my way across her belly, then lean down and press a kiss against the top of her panties, while I continue looking into her eyes. Her abdomen jumps as she pulls in a sharp breath. I allow my lips to linger, breathing deeply of her scent, and I can’t help but close my eyes for a minute trying to imprint her bouquet so that I can relive her essence at will.

“Sorry, Scully, as much as I like these, I think they need to go,” I tell her as I reach across and start to slide the panties down her legs. 

“Yeah,” she breathes shakily, as she lifts her hips up to help me.

I look down at her, naked before me, and I’m simply in awe, she’s so beautiful. Her pale, pink skin, although marred by scars and battle wounds, is only more gorgeous for the stories it tells, stories of the two of us, of our lives intertwined. “You’re exquisite, Scully,” I tell her lovingly, and I see the corners of her mouth turn up in a shy smile as response.

I quickly pull my boxers down and toss them aside. My cock springs free, and I see her eyes drop to look. She raises up onto her elbows and to my delight, her smile turns broader as she says, “Hmmm, you’re pretty exquisite yourself, Mulder…”

I chuckle and turn my head in embarrassment. It’s one thing to know your lady is pleased with your equipment, but it’s another to actually accept a compliment about it. Especially when it comes from someone as unearthly as Scully, who I often dream is above silly things like the stroking the male ego. But then I feel her hand, reaching out and sliding into my own. I turn toward her, and she’s grown serious again.

“Mulder?” she whispers.

“Yes, Scully?” Anything, Scully. Anything you ever need for the rest of your life, Scully ….

“Mulder, please…,” she breathes, “Please,…come make love to me…” 

I’m surprised at how broken and husky my voice sounds when I answer her, “Scully, I thought you’d never ask…” 

She’s reclining against her pillows, the corner of her lower lip captured under her sharp teeth, as she watches my slow approach. I climb onto the end of the bed and kneel between her feet. Crawling between her legs, I make my way toward her on my hands and knees. Her breaths begin to quicken, and she allows her legs to fall further apart as I near their juncture. I groan at her gesture, and take a deep breath as I look at what’s been hidden from me until now.

She’s pretty and pink and glistening with slick moisture under her curls, and I almost lose it at the thought that she’s wet like that for me. She whimpers and shifts her hips as I contemplate her, and she’s so fucking sexy it hurts. I reach out my hand and slide my thumb slowly from bottom to top of her slippery crevice, and she lets out the most sensual groan as she lifts her hips to follow my movements. 

I probe my thumb until I can tell from her reaction that I’ve found the right spot. 

“Ooooh God, Muuuulderrrr….,” slides roughly from her mouth, and her eyes roll back into her head as she turns her cheek into the pillow. My fingers continue their exploration, dipping in and circling around and molding the warm clay of her body, until she is undulating and gasping and clenching her fists in the sheets beneath her.  
_ _ _ _

He is driving me insane. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. His fingers, the things they’re doing to me…. And the sounds he’s making. I don’t even know that he realizes it, but his moans are almost as loud as my own… God, I want more, more…. I want /him/ inside of me, not his fingers, but /him/ bringing me to climax. 

“God….Mul…Mulder…,” I can barely even get the words out, “please,…stop,…I want you,…you inside me,…please….Mulder….”

He understands, and slows his ministrations, thank God. I look up at him, and he’s looking right at me as he brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks his fingers and thumb inside, one by one. 

He closes his eyes and groans around them. Sweet Jesus, that is so hot. I’ve never been turned on by that sort of thing with any other man, but when Mulder does it, God, I could just about come right now.

He opens his eyes and starts crawling farther up my body, stopping to place kisses along the way, on my belly, under the curve of my breast, one on each nipple, under my jaw, and finally his hands cup my face, and he kisses me tenderly on the lips. He lays his weight on top of me, and I feel his hard cock against my hip. As we continue our kisses, I wrap my arms across his back and slide my legs around his waist. Having him on top of me like this is such an overwhelming sensation. I’m surrounded by him, and it makes me feel safe and secure and whole. I pull him as closely against me as I can, trying to meld our bodies into one, as impossible as that is.

Our kisses grow from sweet and tender to hungry and lustful, and our bodies follow suit. Our pelvises are rocking against each other, each yearning for its opposite, and I can literally feel a hollowness inside of me just aching to be filled. I’m so wet and ready for him, I want to cry.

We break our kisses, both of us gasping for air, and find each other’s eyes. We breathe harshly for a few long seconds, asking and answering each other’s questions without ever speaking a word. 

I smile up at him and whisper, “Are you ready?”

He brushes his fingers through my hair and whispers back, “Scully, I’ve been ready for seven years…”

I reach up to kiss him, then untangle my legs from his waist. We both look down as I grasp him and position him at my entrance. This is it. This is really it. A moment I was sure would never come, yet a moment I’ve waited for my entire life. I’m overcome with emotion as he begins to slide inside of me, and I can feel the tears begin to stream down my cheeks as he pushes in. He works slowly, and allows me time to adjust to his size, until he finally is fully inside. I can’t even describe the sense of fullness I feel. For the first time in my life, I actually feel complete, as if all of the swirling energy of my universe has finally found its place. I can’t help the smile on my face as I look up at him, and see that his eyes are glistening as well. 

We smile at each other through our tears, and I whisper, “Look at us, Mulder. Can you believe it?”

He leans down and kisses the streaks from my wet cheeks, then whispers against my lips, “We’re beautiful, Scully.” 

My hands grasp his hair as we kiss, and he slowly begins rocking his hips. Oh. Oh, yes. That feels divine. I rock against him in counterpoint, two buoys in a sloshing lake, drawing together with each roll of a wave. Our pace is slow and sensual at first, but slowly, the waves increase and things intensify. God, the way he moves is amazing, as if his body were designed specifically to illicit a response from my own. 

He pulls himself out so that only the tip of his cock remains inside me, then slams quickly back inside. “Oh God!” erupts from my mouth, and I arch up against him in surprise at the sensation.

He grunts in reply, and repeats the maneuver over and over again. And over again. Until I’ve been reduced to just short bursts of moans and groans and single syllables. 

“God….Muld…oooh….feels…so good…,” I breathe in between thrusts and kisses. I can’t help my head from thrashing side to side against my pillow. The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever experienced, so much more intense than any other man I’ve been with- how is that possible? God, this is so precious. Why did we wait so long for this?

As he thrusts in and out, I can feel every vein of his cock as it bumps along my sensitive inner skin, sending shivers through each nerve ending in my body. My fingers claw at the muscles on his back, trying to pull him against me, wanting our bodies to become so enmeshed that nothing can ever untangle them. He works his hand between us and roughly rubs his thumb against my clit. I hear myself moaning, yet my brain has no control over what is coming from my mouth. The room is full of our sounds- his groans, my sighs, our surnames gasped into the air. I want to slam the door and lock it and keep these noises in here forever as a reminder of this night.

And then suddenly, I feel it. The building of sensation, the ascent up the mountain, the complete loss of control as my core begins to expand and overtake me. Oh God, oh God, oh God…. I fight it for a moment, frightened of losing myself in Mulder’s presence. It’s been so long since this has happened to me anywhere but in solitude. But then I hear his voice.

“Let go, Scully…,” his voice is both tender and rough, “It’s just me, honey,…just you and me…”

And I explode. Every cell of my being bursts apart and expands, swirling through the air of this enchanted room. They drift and spin, then slowly draw back together and reassemble. As my body floats back into consciousness, my gasping breaths are the only sound in the space, and I feel his hands stroking and loving me back to life.

I open my eyes and smile shyly up at him, and he’s looking at me so sweetly, a smile on his own face as well. And then I remember what pushed me over the edge. Honey- Mulder called me Honey. I stroke his cheek and murmur, “Mulder, did you call me…”

Before I can finish, he looks away and mumbles, “Sorry, Scully. I got caught up in the moment…”

It breaks my heart that he thinks he made a mistake, and I quickly reassure him. “No, Mulder, I actually kinda liked it. Say it again…,” I whisper to him.

He rolls his hips against me and murmurs, “Mmm, you like me calling you that? Do you want to by my Honey, Scully?” Damn, why is that so sexy to me? 

“God,…Mulder….,” I whimper desperately. Not two minutes ago, I had the most amazing orgasm of my life, yet here I am, already desperate for more from him.

He leans down and nuzzles against my ear, then whispers, “Scully, you can be anything you want to be if you turn over and show me that beautiful ass of yours….”

A shiver runs straight through my body at his words. And then I give him what he asks for.  
_ _ _ _

I honestly don’t know how I kept myself together enough to make it through the last five minutes. Witnessing the woman I love, the woman I /exist/ for, experiencing her first orgasm with me, because of me, has got to be the most amazing experience of my life. Seeing Scully lose herself in that way far surpasses anything I’ve ever witnessed. I’d honestly give up every alien and flying saucer encounter for the rest of my life just to watch her again.

The way she looked, the way she sounded, the way she moved, the way she absolutely blossomed with light and radiance and energy… I was so enamored with watching her that my own needs disappeared for those glorious few seconds, and I focused on nothing but her brilliance.

However, my body is returning to reality, and my cock is definitely feeling the gentle rhythmic pressure of Scully’s lingering contractions. I think it’s about time we finish this little party we’re having. I ask Scully to turn over, hoping that she isn’t offended by my request, and bless her, she smiles up at me and does it.

“Ooooh yessss…,” I can’t help but hiss as I watch her roll over, then get up on her hands and knees and raise her perfect ass up in the air for me. I know I’ve already extolled the virtues of Scully’s behind, but my God, it is just exquisite from this position. 

“God, Scully,” I moan, “Have I ever told you how much I reeeeally love your ass?” I trace her tattoo silently with my finger for a moment, then lean down and press my lips against it. Then I slide my palms around and around the soft skin of her cheeks and squeeze, as my dick bumps against her entrance.

She whimpers in response and nudges her little behind back against me, impatient for me to enter. I kind of like her impatience, and I tease her for a minute by rubbing the tip of my cock up and down against her wetness. 

“Muuulderrr….,” she groans, and I can tell she’s getting sort of annoyed with me. And as much as Annoyed Scully can sometimes be fun to play with, I myself am getting a bit impatient to be back inside her, so I decide to give in. 

I position myself and start to slowly slide in. We both moan at the sensation. I don’t think I mentioned how fucking amazing it is to finally feel Scully from the inside. She is tight and wet and, fuck, just amazing. I’m trying to go slowly, but Little Miss Impatient is having none of that.

“Hurry the fuck up, Mulder…,” she gasps as she pushes her ass back up against me. And so I take her lead and grasp her hips and thrust into her hard. 

She drops her forehead down to the bed, and grunts in this cute, sexy way, and then she sighs, “Yeeeaaahhh….”

God, I love seeing this side of her! Bossy as ever, but I think I can handle it considering the view I’m getting in return. I start sliding in and out, and oh fuck, this position feels good. I think Scully agrees, because she’s whimpering and moaning, and every time I bottom out inside her, she does this sexy little grunt that is really turning me on.

She’s started pushing back up against me in counterpoint to my own rhythm, and I can tell I’m not going to last much longer at this rate. 

“Scully,…you feel so…unbelieeeevable….,” I gasp out in between thrusts. 

“God…, Mulder,….faster…,” she’s almost breathless in her demand. Shit, she is so hot. I grab her hips again and increase my speed until I’m slamming into her, and she’s literally meeting me at every thrust. Damn, this feels incredible. I can’t believe I am actually fucking Dana Scully. And then I feel her little hand, down near our joining, and I feel her start rubbing herself, frantically rubbing against her clit, and holy hell, it’s just too much.

“Scully…God…Scull…ohgod….Scullohhhh…..,” I hear myself crying out as I come. I’m bowled over by the force of my orgasm, and the waves keep coming, gushing from my body and flowing into hers, forming a glue that I hope is strong enough to bind us together forever.

Within a few seconds, I hear her shatter as well. 

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” she gasps, each repetition higher pitched than the last. Her inner walls contract, and she milks me repeatedly as she lays her arms and head against the bed, gasping. I wrap my arm underneath her abdomen, holding her hips against me as I finish, and then allow my torso to collapse down upon her slick back.

I slide my mouth along her shoulders and back, kissing her again and again, because I still can’t leave her just yet. The nape of her neck beckons me, and I nuzzle in and rest my cheek there for a moment before rolling us over so that we are facing each other, our faces just inches apart. My hand moves on its own up to tangle in her hair, and hers caresses my cheek as she meets my eye.

Our eyes hold a silent conversation, as our hands roam and caress, still unwilling to be without each other’s touch for too long. We stay like this for several minutes, until our breathing returns to a slow and steady cadence. Her fingers make their way to my lips, and she slides over them with her thumb. I pucker and kiss the digit, and she smiles at me.

She’s the first to break the silence. “That was pretty fun, Mulder,” she says in a sexy bedroom voice, “Can we do it again sometime?” 

I chuckle, surprised at her choice of post-coital conversation, expecting something a little more serious coming from her. But then, Scully has always done a good job at surprising me, and I’m a little giddy at the thought that this particular personality trait seems just as evident in the bedroom as in the office. 

I grin, and ask, “How do you feel about two hours from now?” 

She giggles and grins back at me, but then her eyes turn more serious, as I had earlier anticipated. I know that she needs to do this, to make sure we’re okay. 

“I don’t have any regrets, Mulder,” she says softly, tickling her fingers along my hairline as she speaks. “I think it was finally time for us.” 

I love that she’s finally come to this realization, and I pull her against me to gather her in my arms. “I don’t have any regrets either, Scully. I never could with you…,” I tell her as I nuzzle her cheek.

She pulls back and cups my jaw, and kisses me tenderly on the lips. Our mouths and lips and tongues continue the conversation, delicately confirming everything that’s transpired in the last few hours. We finally break apart and our foreheads connect with a tender familiarity. 

Then, without warning, she pulls away, disengages her limbs from my own, and rolls over so that her back is to me. I panic for a second, assuming she’s upset, but then she looks back over her shoulder and says, “Better get some sleep, Mulder. We’ve got a standing engagement for two hours from now, and I’m never late…” 

And then she reaches for my arm and pulls it across her hips, and cuddles back against me until we’re spooning. 

I grin and murmur into her hair, “Well, Miss Scully…, now that I’ve got something to look forward to, I may even show up early…,” and I grind my pelvis against her behind for good measure.

“Hmmmm,” I can hear the smile gracing her face as she hums her sleepy approval, and I pull the bedding over us and attempt to get some rest. 

_ _ _ _

I hear his breaths even out in the cadence of sleep. I snuggle back even closer to him and allow myself to bask in the drowsy calm of our connection. I know my mind is going to wake up soon and start trying to make sense of all that’s happened tonight, but I’m content right now to allow my heart some uninhibited joy. 

I know things are going to be complicated and hard and challenging. Our lives are /already/ complicated, hard, and challenging. Adding this new dimension is only going to intensify what already exists. But I also have realized now that Mulder and I belong together. Our souls have been bound for years, and the joining of our bodies has been destined for as long. I won’t deny that any longer- I can’t. What we have between us is too powerful to deny, and I’m so glad that I’ve finally realized it.

My eyelids are getting heavy, and I need to sleep. I promised Mulder an encore performance in two hours, and I don’t want to disappoint him. In fact, I really should wake up a little earlier than that in order to surprise him with some new lingerie. I mentally catalog my choices, trying to decide which is appropriate for this occasion. What do I have that represents total fulfillment, boundless love, absolute happiness, and most especially, pure unbridled passion?

As many choices as I have, I can’t think of a single combination of satin and lace that could embody all of those things, that could show him just how important he is to me, how important we are to each other. Perhaps there lies my answer. Perhaps there is no material method of representing those things for him. Perhaps he doesn’t need something like that at all. Perhaps all he needs me to wear is myself. 

Victoria’s Secret presents its newest line of lingerie: Dana Katherine Scully. Vulnerable, skeptical, trustworthy, enigmatic, and most of all, absolutely head over heels in love.

I think maybe he’ll find that choice the prettiest of all….


End file.
